“Go,” he said, more gently this time. “Be with your team. I’ll find somewhere to sit.”
“Tanner—”
“I’m not upset.” He stepped close enough that I could hear him without straining. “This is just…a lot. But I want to be here. I want to see this part of your life.” His mouth quirked, self-deprecating. “Just give me a minute to remember how to breathe in crowds.”
“You’re sure?” I searched his face for any sign he was just saying what I wanted to hear. “Because we can leave. Right now. I don’t care about?—”
“I know you don’t.” Something softened in his expression. “That’s why I’m staying.”
The words landed somewhere in my chest and stuck there.
“If it gets to be too much?—”
“I’ll find you.” He nodded toward the bar at the far end of the room. “I’ll be over there. Go do your thing,Landry.”
The way he said my nickname—like it was a costume I put on, separate from the person he knew—made me want to kiss him right there. I wanted to pull him close and remind him that none of this mattered as much as he did.
Instead, I squeezed his arm once, held his gaze long enough to make sure he saw everything I couldn’t say aloud, and let myself get swallowed by the crowd.
Being Landry was easy.
That was the thing about team dynamics—you slipped into the role like putting on a jersey. Landry was the guy who’d played four years without complaint, who showed up to every practice and backed every play call, even when he disagreed. Landry bought rounds and remembered everyone’s girlfriends’ names and never made anyone feel awkward about the things they said in the locker room.
Landrydidn’t glance over his shoulder every thirty seconds to make sure his boyfriend was okay.Landrywasn’t a very good boyfriend.
I caught myself doing it anyway. Tanner had found a spot at the far end of the bar, nursing a beer, talking to Jenkins’s girlfriend about something that made her laugh. Good. He could do this. He was better at people than he gave himself credit for.
“Earth to Landry.” Davis waved a hand in front of my face. “You in there?”
“Yeah. Sorry. What?”
“I said the boosters want to do a meet-and-greet on Thursday before the pep rally. Coach needs a headcount by tomorrow.”
“Works for me.”
Davis followed my gaze across the room. “Your roommate seems cool. Quiet though.”
“He’s not big on crowds.”
“But he came anyway.” Davis raised an eyebrow. “That’s something.”
I didn’t know how to answer that. The truth sat heavy in my chest—that Tanner had come because I’d asked, because we were trying to build something that had room for both our worlds, because he felt things for me that neither of us had figured out how to name yet.
“He’s a good guy,” I said instead.
“Must be, if he puts up with your Garth Brooks obsession.”
“I don’t have an obsession.”
“You literally have a playlist calledGarth or Nothing.”
“That’s ironic.”
“Sure it is.” Davis clapped my back and wandered off toward the pool tables.
I found myself drifting toward Tanner without deciding to. The crowd parted and reformed around me, conversations blurring into white noise.
Halfway across the room, I spotted him still at the bar—but he wasn’t alone anymore. Jenkins had pulled up a stool next to him,gesturing broadly while his girlfriend leaned in from Tanner’s other side, her expression animated. Tanner was nodding along, his posture still tense but his face engaged, actually listening.
